


A Little Pull

by monalisafrowns



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monalisafrowns/pseuds/monalisafrowns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While touring with Panic! Dallon has noticed that Ian reacts to getting his hair pulled. He reacts quite positively. Dallon investigates. PWP. Hair pulling kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Pull

It took Dallon a while to pick up on it. But once he did he made sure he did it more often. A little bit more each day. For testing purposes of course. He was only curious to see Ian’s reactions when he tugged on his hair. The way Ian would just freeze and close his eyes, sucking in a breath sharply.

It started when Dallon began ruffling Ian’s fluffy hair randomly. He tugged at it lightly, affectionately. And when Ian was being out of control Dallon would grab onto Ian’s hair a little tighter to stop his constant movement. Slowly he began to notice how Ian reacted. So Dallon experimented. He pulled harder and held onto the strands longer. Recently Dallon noticed the softest little moans coming from Ian. Ian would just glare at Dallon who smirked at him knowingly.

They all had the night off. After a week of shows every night the four of them just wanted to sleep. Zack handed out the room keys; Spencer and Brendon sharing a room and Ian with Dallon. Ian gave Zack a helpless look but Zack merely shrugged in response. Dallon laughed quietly to himself.

Once in the hotel and on the way up the elevator, Ian began fidgeting profusely. He could not be still for more than three seconds. Dallon placed his hand on Ian’s head and curled his fingers the slightest bit, threatening to pull harder. Ian looked up at him with pleading eyes and ceased movement. Dallon let go. No one else in the elevator took notice. Once the elevator reached the destined floor they all got out and went to their respective rooms, goodnights echoing across the hall. Dallon unlocked the door and Ian ran inside claiming the first post-show shower. Dallon simply rolled his eyes and dropped his bag by one of the beds.

After the bathroom was sufficiently steamy from two post show showers the pair were sitting on Dallon’s bed flipping through the channels. Ian was lying on his stomach pressing the buttons rapidly while Dallon sat next to him, long legs spilling over the edge of the bed. Ian was flipping through the channels far too fast to even see what was on but Dallon didn’t mind. Absentmindedly Dallon began petting Ian’s fluffy head. Ian’s attention perked up but only for a moment, relaxing into the gentle touch. Dallon scratched lightly, tugging the slightest big on the curly strands. Ian closed his eyes and dipped his head down into the mattress. Soft little murmurs were coming from the younger boy and Dallon smirked to himself. Carefully he transitioned his soft tugs into harder ones. The smallest of whimpers escaped Ian’s lips. He pulled more frequently and harder each time.

“Dallon,” Ian muttered, face pressed against the mattress. “What are you doing?”

“Quiet.” Dallon commanded, voice sharp.

He pulled hard on Ian’s hair, yanking his head upwards. His neck strained against the pull and he gasped out of shock and lack of air circulation. Ian glanced up at Dallon out of the corner of his eye. A questioning look, but also of excitement and lust. It gave Dallon a little push to move further. Still holding onto Ian’s hair he pulled him up to a sitting position facing him. Ian opened his mouth to speak but Dallon tightened his grip. Ian closed his eyes.

“Now Ian, I want you to be a good boy okay? Listen to every word I say and you better fucking listen to me or else there will be consequences. You got it?”

Ian whimpered.

“Answer me.” Dallon commanded sharply, pulling Ian’s head back.

“Yes.” Ian gasped, straining against his tightened neck.

“Good boy.” Dallon said, voice softening.

Dallon slowly let loose his grip on Ian’s hair. Ian sighed faintly.

“Strip. On your knees.” Dallon said, pointing at the floor in front of him.

Ian nodded. Ian was pretty much almost naked anyways. He wore low fitting Star Wars pajama bottoms that hung loosely on his hips. He slipped out of those, taking his boxers with them. He was already half hard, the hair pulling making want more. Dallon smirked. He pointed at the ground, reminding Ian to get on his knees. Ian did just that. Ian cautiously placed his hands on Dallon’s inner thighs, rubbing gently. The flannel pants he wore were soft and shifted underneath Ian’s movements. Dallon inhaled deeply.

“Ian, I’m going to face fuck you. And you’re going to take it all, and love it. Got it?”

Ian nodded eagerly. Of course, Dallon. Anything.

Dallon lifted himself off of the edge of the bed to push his pants to his ankles where he kicked them aside. Ian nestled himself between Dallon’s legs and looked up at Dallon, waiting. Dallon nodded, signaling him to start. Ian went to put his hands on Dallon’s impressive length but Dallon snatched his wrist and squeezed. With his other hand he shook his finger at Ian.

“No hands. Behind your back.”

Dallon let go and Ian retracted his hand. He clasped his hands together tightly behind his back. He leaned forward slowly, nosing his way along Dallon’s inner thigh. He delicately began lapping at the head, gaining a groan from Dallon. He circled his tongue expertly before engulfing the head in his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking. Ian continued to go further down the shaft, impressing Dallon with how much he could fit into his mouth. Dallon groaned loudly when he felt himself hit the back of Ian’s throat. Ian didn’t even have his whole cock in his mouth but he pushed further down. Abruptly Dallon stood up, which pushed more of himself down Ian’s throat. A choking sound came from Ian’s mouth but he simply adjusting his body and mouth to the change. Dallon began petting Ian’s hair, grabbing onto it tightly every few seconds. He grabbed harder each time, more pull, more force. Ian moaned around his dick, sending vibrations from deep in his throat. Dallon fisted Ian’s hair with both hands and started a quick pace of fucking Ian in the face. Ian took it easily, opening his throat like a professional porn star and taking all of it. He was making these fucking noises. So animalistic. So full of need and want. Like he would fucking die without Dallon Weekes’ cock in his mouth and deep in his throat.

“Fuck, Ian. You’re gonna make me come from this.” Dallon grunted.

And Ian looks up at Dallon through his lashes. Wet, red lips stretched around Dallon’s cock. And he looks fucking beautiful. And Dallon nearly loses it. He can’t come yet. He’s always wondered just how tight Ian’s ass is. Dallon yanks Ian away from his cock and Ian gasps loudly. He nearly falls back on his ass but Dallon’s grip on his hair stops him.

“Want to fuck you now.” Dallon says darkly. His voice is gravelly, full of lust and desire.

Ian nods frantically. Such a good, obedient boy. He doesn’t even have to be told. He scrambles onto the bed and positions himself on his hands and knees. Dallon gives himself a few strokes as he admires Ian’s ass. And then Ian quickly has two fingers working into himself, saliva as lube. And Ian’s moaning and rocking into it, desperate for more. Dallon quickly goes to his duffel bag and produces a bottle of lube. He coats three of his fingers and goes back to Ian. He kneels on the bed behind him and pulls Ian’s fingers out of the way before inserting his own three digits. Ian moans, relishing in the fullness. Dallon works him open quickly, neither of them have the time to worry too much about prep. It’s about that need. Need to be filled. Need to feel that tightness. That warmth. They both know it.

Dallon removes his fingers and Ian whimpers at the loss. Dallon squeezes some more lube into his hand and rubs it on his cock. He wipes the excess on the bed sheet. He positions himself behind Ian’s semi-stretched hole.

“Ready?” Dallon asks, voice full of breath.

“Yeah. Yeah. Jesus Dallon just fuck me ple—”

Ian doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Dallon slams into him hard, all the way in. Ian’s head dips down as he shudders and groans. Dallon is quick to grab his curly locks and yank backwards. Ian strangles a moan that’s super breathy as he struggles against the pull. Dallon is picking up a pace, slamming into him sharply, hitting every angle looking for the right one to set Ian off. He’s got his other hand digging into Ian’s hip. Surely it’ll leave a bruise. Maybe little crescent shaped indents where he dug his nails in.

“Ughh, Ian. You’re so fucking tight. So fucking tight, Ian.” Dallon grunts.

Ian’s gasping. Breathy moans. It’s driving Dallon wild. And then Dallon slams in hard and Ian’s whole body convulses. Dallon almost stops to ask if he’s alright but then he hears Ian’s moan. That’s the spot. Dallon thrusts into Ian sharply, hitting that spot relentlessly. Ian’s making so much noise and it’s so good and then suddenly Ian’s coming all over the sheets underneath them and his body is shaking and he can’t hold himself up with his arms anymore. So he collapses onto the bed, Dallon still going harder, faster, gripping his hair tightly. And then Dallon reaches his release, pausing for a moment as it hits him and then riding it out slowly. Come leaking out the sides. Ian’s not really moving. Dallon pulls himself out and Ian flinches. But he’s really not moving.

Dallon catches his breath and goes around the bed to sit in front of Ian. Ian’s just lying on his stomach, come drying between his stomach and the sheets. Eyes closed, hair drooping in front of his face. Dallon pushes his hair out of the way and peers down at him. He snaps his fingers in front of his face.

“Ian. Ian, wake up. Crawford, come on.” Dallon shakes him a little and he stirs.

He looks up at Dallon through a daze and smiles lazily.

“Did you…did you go under?” Dallon whispers.

“I think so.” Ian mumbles, lifting himself up.

Ian takes in his surroundings and realizes he’s covered in both of their come. He makes a face.

“Why is there come everywhere?” Ian questions, the goofiest grin on his face.

“Shut up, Crawford.” Dallon laughs, leaning in to kiss Ian softly on the lips.


End file.
